


Following the Star

by franscats



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-02
Updated: 2015-02-02
Packaged: 2018-03-10 04:42:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3277154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/franscats/pseuds/franscats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is an alternate universe story set about 180 years ago.</p>
<p>Sentinel Jim Ellison is traveling across the US heading for the sentinel camps in the mountains of the north east.  He passes through Blairstown on his way and meets a guide.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Following the Star

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for stoneygirl77 as part of the 2014 TS Secret Santa.
> 
> I wish to acknowledge my incredible beta Magician113 and thank her for all her time, patience and input.
> 
> Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters are the property of Paramount and Pet Fly Productions who own the rights to (fandom and said characters), I do not. No money has exchanged. No harm, slander, defamation of character or company intended.

Following the Star

This is an alternate universe piece set about 180 years ago.

Jim looked up at the sign that read Blairstown Population 200 and sighed as he pushed his large-rimmed hat down lower over his face and eyes to keep his face protected from the falling snow and biting wind. “Another new town,” he muttered dismally as he checked his map, finding no listing for Blairstown. He had been traveling for five months, hiking across the small towns that dotted the North American continent, doing odd jobs here and there to keep himself fed and clothed as he made his way toward the Catskill Mountains where he could join a sentinel camp. 

Sentinels, people with five heightened senses, were rare and wanted as scouts and spies by the government, and as watchmen in the small isolated towns across the continent. Hell, some town councils in more dangerous areas, especially in the Plains States and along the borders with Mexico, had set up rewards for bringing in an unharmed sentinel, and bounty hunters were always on the lookout for sentinels to make a fast buck. Ever since learning of sentinels from native tribes, the small towns had been trying to secure sentinels to watch and protect their borders from marauders. Jim had read the job offers advertised across most of the territories as he traveled from the west. The jobs sounded pretty good and usually included a decent salary and a homestead, but Jim realized accepting a post was a permanent commitment. Once a sentinel went to work for a town he was stuck there for life, they would never let him leave. And, as most sentinels balked at the idea of being given no choice as to where they lived and for how long they lived there, they had begun to disappear, heading up into the Catskills, or at least that was what he had heard – ergo his trip east.

Supposedly, sentinels had set up their own little community in the mountains and would negotiate and hire out their services on a short-term basis. Banded together for their mutual protection, the sentinels would see to it that none of their community was forced into a permanent position or shanghaied. 

It was unfortunate, but the protection of the sentinel community was necessary. On the west coast, before he left for his travels east, Jim had heard the rumors circulating that kidnappers had begun grabbing the guardians, bringing them to small towns and holding them there while young women and men were paraded in front of them to get them to bond with a guide – the one true companion to a sentinel. Most of the “would be” guides that towns presented for bonding, wouldn’t be true guides and the bonds wouldn’t be strong enough to hold a sentinel. But these kinds of situations could become difficult. In general, people didn’t understand the nature of a bond. They assumed, wrongfully, that it was some kind of sexual union. That was not the case. The bond was – and Jim hated admitting this part despite the fact that he knew it was true – a meeting of two souls on a spiritual plane. Sex could be a way of showing that commitment on a physical plane, but it was not the bond. 

Jim wasn’t sure these tales of kidnappings and forced bonding were true but, not wanting to take any chances, he kept his abilities hidden as he traveled east. 

Glancing down at his supplies, he considered continuing his trek and bypassing Blairstown, but he had little left by way of food and his skin was irritated with large rashes thanks to the icy mud he had endured in the snow showers of the last few days. More than anything, he wanted a bath and a warm bed for the night. Jim considered how much money he had – about 130 dollars. He had left the city of Cascade (or more accurately escaped) after a fight with his father, William Ellison, an ambitious politician who wanted to use Jim’s abilities to further his own ends. On that fateful day, Jim had come home early and, just outside of the house, had overheard a conversation between two servants talking about how Ellison was importing a guide to force a bond on his son. He could still hear the conversation, the servants talking about Jim because they knew he wasn’t home…

Jim was just coming up Prospect when he heard their housekeeper, Sally, in the kitchen talking with the butler, Ming. Jim could hear the squeak of her rolling pin and smiled as he realized she was preparing a pie. He was about to head into the kitchen and see if he could con his way into getting a piece of the honeyed fruit she would put in the pie when he heard Ming say, “Mr. Ellison sent me on an errand, so I didn’t have time to clean the silver - the way you asked.”

Sally stopped rolling the pie dough. “What errand?” she asked.

“He sent a telegram to someone in San Francisco.”

“Mr. Ellison is an important businessman. He sends a lot of telegrams.” Jim could almost visualize Sally shrugging as she said this.

“Yes, but this was not for business,” Ming answered moving closer and lowering his voice. Despite this, Jim could hear clearly as Ming added, “He is sending for a guide for Master Jim.”

“What?” Sally and Jim said it at the same time.

“He is sending for a guide for Master Jim,” Ming repeated. “I think Mr. Ellison thinks, if he controls the guide, he can have better control of Master Jim.”

“This will be bad,” Sally muttered, starting to work on the dough again, her movements reflecting her change in mood. The sound of her rolling out the dough became violent as the pin squeaked and pounded on the table. “Mr. Jim will not be happy…

Angry after what he had heard, Jim had confronted his father, the senior Ellison denying the allegation, but Jim, a full sentinel, could tell by his body language that William Ellison was lying and, unfortunately, William Ellison would know enough about bonding and his son’s preferences to ensure that the guide could bond. But whether a bond would work or not didn’t matter; Jim wasn’t planning on meeting any guide his father could hire and took off that night carrying a few supplies he had quickly packed and 700 dollars he had saved. Three days outside of Cascade he had bought a horse and continued east, avoiding the railroad system and anywhere his father might search for him. Months later, continuing his trek east, he sold his horse to a rancher near the Mississippi River for 200 dollars and used some of that money for supplies just after crossing. 

Now he was near his destination but he didn’t know how long it would take to connect with a sentinel group and he would have to lay down provisions for the winter and find or build a shelter. So, he gave some serious consideration to possible consequences of delaying his travel, before scratching at one of the rashes and turning into Blairstown.

Though Jim came from a large port city, he had gotten used to small towns, but Blairstown was smaller than most. The town was little more than a gathered farming community. Walking down what Jim guessed was the center of town, he looked for a boarding house sign. He was about to go in the saloon and ask for directions when a small man walked over.

“Hello,” the man smiled and tilted his hat, “and welcome to Blairstown.”

“Thank you.” Jim looked around cautiously despite the friendly welcome. “I’m passing through and thought I’d spend a night in a boarding house, if there is one, and get a hot bath.”

“The widow, Mrs. Hutchins, owns the large green house down the road, the one with the brown shingles. She rents rooms and does keep a bath house.”

“Thank you,” Jim tipped his hat and settling his pack, on his back headed down the street.

***

Naomi Sandburg slipped silently into the office and looked at her son, Blair, his head bowed as he studied a large book, his long curly brown hair pushed behind his ears, his glasses perched precariously on the end of his nose. Stepping up behind the young man, she leaned over and kissed the top of his curly head and then smiled when he looked up. “How’s my favorite son?” she asked with some amusement.

“Favorite son?” Blair stood and turned to his mother with a quick smile that lit large sapphire blue eyes as he studied his mother. “Naomi, I’m your only son, right?”

Naomi could hear amusement in the question and nodded, “Yes, Blair,” she teased, but her smile died as she looked at her son’s concerned face. “What’s wrong?”

Blair looked down at the papers on his desk. “Nothing we can fix,” he answered. “I’ve been trying to resolve the issue between Farmer Gill and Farmer Ross but I can’t figure who is telling the truth. If only we had a sentinel. He or she could help us resolve the issue. A sentinel would know who is telling the truth.”

Naomi’s hand stroked across Blair’s cheek as she looked at the young man, hearing a lot more than just a desire for someone who could mete out justice. “And you a true guide. Perhaps a sentinel will join us.”

“We’re never going to find a sentinel, here,” Blair answered, hearing the bitterness in his voice as he turned away, trying to hide his disappointment. He knew there was little use in crying and he didn’t want to upset his mother. Instead, he forced his mind back to the issues at hand and focused on the papers again, but Naomi knew her son well enough to know how he was feeling.

Naomi had been a gypsy for years, wandering the northeast, but had stopped when she got pregnant. She had been taken in by a wealthy farmer who had no family and had adopted her and her baby. He had died not long after Blair’s birth, leaving Naomi his lands, his stocks, his fortune and his dream. And his dream had been to build a town in the small northeastern wilderness area so that he and the other farmers could have a place for a social life, and to some extent, security and justice. Naomi seized the dream and using what amounted to incredible insights and organizational skills, founded the small town two years after she inherited the farm and named the town after her son. Her first advisor was Charlie Spring, a psychic, who took one look at Naomi’s toddler son and informed her that Blair was a true guide, a thing as rare as a sentinel, but so far Blair had not been able to bond because sentinels were rare and seemed to bypass Blairstown. 

Blairstown was a quiet town, prosperous (considering it was largely a farming community) and well governed. So far they had little trouble from other towns and marauders despite the fact that they had yet to find a permanent sheriff but that could change so easily, and Blair worried about their future as much as he worried about administering justice in the small town. Blair, Naomi and her friend Charlie Spring made up the town council and were recognized as the governing seat of Blairstown. They were honest and hardworking and did the best they could for their people. But every year as winter turned cold and started dropping snow on the hard ground, and supplies became harder to get, inevitably they worried about the possibility of marauders. Adding to their concerns was the fact that aside from the town proper which included a saloon with hotel upstairs, a small bank/post office/telegraph office, a sheriff’s office and jail, a smithy, a general store, a boarding house for those who wanted something quieter and a bit more homey than the hotel, a small schoolhouse (they had yet to find a full time teacher. In the meantime, Blair filled in) and a few homes, their small town was made up of farms and ranches spread out across the land.

“Charlie should be here any minute, so why don’t you get your notes ready,” Naomi suggested with a gentle smile for her son as the psychic came hurrying into the room.

“Naomi,” he smiled a quick greeting at Blair, “I need to speak with you.” Naomi walked over and Charlie leaned close, whispering as Blair frowned wondering what Charlie needed to discuss that the three couldn’t share.

“There’s a sentinel in town,” Charlie spoke softly.

“What?” 

Charlie nodded. “He rented a room for the night at Mrs. Hutchins but I sensed he’s a full sentinel.” Both sets of eyes glanced over at Blair who realizing he was to be excluded from the conversation, had turned back to gather his papers in preparation for the town meeting where farmers and tradesmen came to have grievances settled. Naomi looked at the young man thinking of her son’s need of a sentinel.

“Maybe I should go and check him out,” Naomi whispered and Charlie nodded as she glanced again at her son. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said and turned to the door as Blair turned back with a frown.

“Naomi we have business to attend to. People are expecting the Blairstown,” he looked embarrassed at the town name, “governing seat to meet this morning. You can’t just disappear.”

“It will, Blair, but there is someone new in town and I just want to get a peek at him.”

“Someone new?” Blair perked up. He was always looking for news from outside.

“I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

***

Jim walked into Mrs. Hutchins’ Boarding House and looked around. The place seemed homey in a way that his family’s house never did. There was a fire in the fireplace warming the large common room and, in a corner of the room, two young children were tying ribbons on star-shaped cookies and placing them on a Christmas tree. Jim could see the small pieces of colorful candy that dotted the tree and the strings of popcorn. He knew winter was fast approaching, but being on the road he hadn’t quite kept track of the date and hadn’t realized it was so near Christmas. Mentally calculating the date, he realized it was December 22nd. For a moment he gazed at the two children, a small boy of about six and a girl of about four, the pair enjoying their decorating

He smiled at the warm family picture, the small children decorating a five-foot balsam fir, but the smile turned to a frown as the scene made him think of Christmas at his family’s home. Christmas was something his father considered frivolous and unworthy of any attention. As a matter of fact, the last good Christmas Jim could remember was three months before his mother died. She had been gentle and loving and had put up a tree with candies and cookies and popcorn, just like here. Jim had been seven the last time his mother had put up a tree. It was the last time Christmas had been celebrated as a family.

Turning away from the tree and gazing around, Jim watched as an older woman walked over. Minding his manners, Jim removed his hat. “Hello, I understand you have rooms for rent.”

The woman looked Jim over speculatively and smiled, approving of the visitor. “I do. How long will you be staying?”

“Not more than a day or two, but in addition to a room, I could use a hot bath.”

“I charge two pence a day,” she warned and Jim nodded his agreement. Mrs. Hutchins handed him her guest book and he signed it. “I’ll see to the bath,” she said, looking over Jim’s shoulder to see his name, “Mr. Ellison.”

Jim handed back the book and looked down as the little girl walked over, cookie in hand. ?Quieres una galleta de Navidad? she asked and held out a star cookie in offering.

Jim smiled as he considered the small child reaching up to offer a cookie. She was beautiful, with olive skin, dark eyes and long, straight black hair. He could tell she would be a beauty when she grew up.

“Maria,” Mrs. Hutchins said quietly. “I told you most people around here do not speak Spanish.” She glanced at Jim. “Maria and Juan were orphaned and I took them in.”

Jim knelt down and looked at the girl. “Gracias pero creo que necesitas para el árbol de Navidad,” Jim answered, and glanced at Mrs. Hutchins. “I come from the west coast where a lot of Spanish is spoken.” The girl smiled in delight hearing her own language and turned back to the tree as Mrs. Hutchins led Jim up the stairs to a room.

The room was small, with a brass bed, a small bureau and a table and chair. In one corner was a small fireplace. “Will this do?”

Jim nodded, “This will be fine.”

“I’ll get the bath going; the room is off the kitchen, and I’ll have the fireplace lit before you go to bed.”

“Thank you,” Jim replied, putting down his bags and pulling out fresh clothes as Mrs. Hutchins left. Gathering what he would need for a bath, Jim headed downstairs.

Jim soon found his way to the bathing room and looked around, noting the steam coming from the large claw foot, metal tub. There was a screen set up and Jim disrobed behind the screen as Mrs. Hutchins poured the last of the hot water into the tub. “It’s ready Mr. Ellison,” she called and she turned and left the room giving the man privacy as he finished disrobing. Jim peeked out though his senses already knew no one was in the bathhouse and smiling walked over sliding into the hot water, his hand reaching for the soap as tired muscles relaxed. With a sigh, he leaned back for a moment and closed his eyes, letting his senses go, enjoying the heat as it played across his body and the scent of soap that replaced the smell of the road. 

Taking a minute to just enjoy the bath, he put the wash cloth Ms. Hutchins left over his eyes to give his sight a chance to relax and rested his head on the rim of the large tub as he slid his back down into the water. The warm water was relaxing muscles hard and long abused from traveling and he realized he was getting ready to doze and, not wanting to fall asleep in the bath, pulled the wash cloth off his eyes just as a door opened. His sense of touch kicked in, feeling the slight increase in cool air, as the curtain fluttered before a tall willowy redheaded woman, bundled against the winter chill, entered the room and stared at him from near the door.

“Mr. Ellison,” she said with a bright smile as her eyes moved over his face and chest, liking the broad expanse of muscle she saw. Yes, this man was good looking enough for her son. Before she could get closer and look lower, Jim grabbed the washcloth to cover himself, wishing the cloth was larger as his rapid movements caused water to slosh about and spill from the large tub on the wooden floor. “May I speak with you,” she took a step into the room.

“From the door,” Jim growled, blushing and covering himself with the wash cloth and his hands.

“Oh, yes of course,” Naomi stepped back, momentarily standing on tiptoes, still trying to peer over the rim of the tub, her eyes twinkling with amusement. She had never been prudish about her body, and in her opinion nudity and sex were wonderful things. It was not the general consensus in the puritanical society she lived in, but she recognized and acknowledged that it was the way things were in the world. “I’m Naomi Sandburg, part of the governing council of Blairstown,” she began. “And as such I’d like to invite you to meet with the town council.”

Jim raised an eyebrow, looking at the woman suspiciously. “Why is that? I’m only staying one or two nights as I pass through.”

Naomi shrugged, thinking quickly. She would have to find a way to extend his stay, but for now she needed a plausible reason for meeting. “We like to hear news of the outside world when a stranger passes through. We don’t get many visitors or much by way of news, and it is a long way from here to Trenton, New York or Philadelphia just to get some news.”

Jim nodded; it was a common enough response. People thought he might have information on what was going on because he was traveling. And usually he had information about the fights along the Texas Mexico border because his hearing could pick up all kinds of interesting information. “I’ll stop in at your office a little later,” he indicated his state of undress. “After my bath and some dinner.”

“Why don’t you join the council for dinner? When we are in town we stay in some rooms next door to the jail and have meals prepared. You could join us there.” Jim considered the offer. He really wanted to eat alone and then go to bed. His senses were always harder to manage when he was tired but he had learned if the town council asked to see you, you should be seen. Otherwise, they got suspicious.

“What time?” he asked, his voice clearly showing his lack of enthusiasm. 

“Normally, we eat dinner at three but we can eat at four if you need some time.”

“Three is fine,” Jim paused and then added, “Thank you.” Usually, he was asked to meet the council but rarely did they feed him. “If you’ll excuse me,” he indicated the bath and Naomi, glancing over his sculpted chest one more time, smiled and nodded before heading back to Charlie.

***

Charlie and Blair were sitting together looking through the notes Blair had made when Naomi walked back in. The pair looked up, Blair curious as Naomi took a seat. “I met the stranger,” she informed them. “And invited him to dinner. I thought Blair might want to get some news of the outside world,” she teased, but could see that the idea of meeting someone who had traveled interested her son. Blair was always interested in people from other cultures and places. “His name is Jim Ellison and. according to Mrs. Hutchins, he’s come all the way from the west coast.” Her eyes moved to Charlie. “He says he’s only staying one or two nights, but who knows - maybe we can get him to stay longer.” Turning to business she lifted the papers. “Farmers Gill and Ross are outside, so let’s see what we can work out.”

Two hours later, Naomi, Charlie and Blair were looking at the hearty meal Mrs. Green, the saloon owner’s wife and cook, had prepared for them when there was a knock at the door. As it was just three o’clock, they guessed that it was their guest and noted that the man was punctual. Opening the door, Charlie looked over the tall man standing there, taking in the intelligent sky blue eyes and muscular body. “Good afternoon, Mr. Ellison, I didn’t get a chance to introduce myself when we met earlier. I’m Charlie Spring,” he offered his hand hoping to get some vibes from the sentinel. 

“Good afternoon,” Jim responded, as his hand practically eclipsed Charlie’s. Pulling his hand free, he removed his hat as he stepped in the door and Charlie moved forward to stand beside Naomi. “I take it you’ve met Naomi,” he continued and Jim’s cheeks turned pink as he looked over at the woman.

“Informally,” he grumbled with a slight bow and then took her hand.

“And this is her son, Blair Sandburg.” Jim turned and automatically offered his hand as Blair reached out to welcome the stranger.

Sentinel and guide connected. 

Naomi wasn’t psychic, but even she could tell something was passing between them as the two seemed to lose themselves in some sensation.

It was Blair who finally dropped his hand still wearing a dazed expression as the hand snaked out to hold onto Jim’s arm. “Hello…Mr. Ell….Ellison,” he tried to push the words out as giant, dark blue eyes stared into the dilated pupils of the sentinel. “I’m Blair,” he continued. 

Jim took an involuntary step back, Blair’s hand falling from his arm as his mind reeled. “A guide,” his mind catalogued as he tried to shake his head clear. “A real guide,” he realized and the sentinel part of his brain reacted wanting to claim the younger man. But Jim didn’t know this place or this person and the same caution that had kept him alive in his travels across the country came to his aid. “Nice to meet you,” he answered, his voice sounding strained in his own ears as he wondered how long he had been staring at Blair.

Blair smiled in response, barely controlling a desire to reach out and caress the man in front of him as his own mind screamed that this gorgeous man in front of him was a sentinel. “I’m Blair,” the guide answered, not even realizing he was repeating himself as he stared at Jim. “And you are a sentinel,” he finished his voice full of awe.

Jim cleared his throat at that statement, glancing around, feeling trapped, but Naomi and Charlie were taking seats at the table, practically ignoring the pair and Blair wasn’t moving, only staring up at him. Knowing he couldn’t hide that he was a sentinel from a true guide he nodded as Blair slowly, shyly, reached out a shaking hand to touch the sentinel’s face. Stepping out of reach before the contact could be made, Jim again glanced around as Blair dropped his hand, trying to hide his disappointment behind his long brown curls but Jim had seen the look of longing, the need that answered something within Jim. 

Reminding himself that he was on his way to a sentinel camp and didn’t know these people, he took another step back, ready to bolt. But Blair, seeing and feeling Jim’s discomfort, pulled into himself and forced a smile as he indicated the table. “Please have a seat, Mr. Ellison.”

Not knowing what else to do, his eyes still focused on the guide, Jim took the seat indicated as Charlie and Naomi, realizing neither sentinel or guide were aware of or interested in the food, filled both plates, setting them down before the oblivious men. They watched an almost choreographed dance as Blair or Jim would lean toward each other and then realizing they were getting into the other’s space, pull back quickly and pretend they were picking up a utensil or water. 

Deciding the silence was uncomfortable Charlie glanced over at Jim. “How long have you been traveling, Mr. Ellison?” he asked, catching the sentinel’s attention.

Jim reluctantly pulled his eyes from Blair. “Five months. I set off from the Pacific and headed first south then east, and now north again.”

“That’s a long way to go alone,” Charlie observed and Jim shrugged. 

“I’m looking to resettle in the northern wilderness.” Despite the fact that everyone in the room knew he was a sentinel, he somehow didn’t want to mention the sentinel camps.

“The wilderness is beautiful,” Naomi chimed in, noticing that her son said nothing, “but a bit cold for my taste, this time of year.”

Jim, feeling uncomfortable about discussing his destination, decided a change of subject might be in order. “I can’t help but notice the name of the town and the name of your son,” he left the rest of the question unasked and Naomi nodded.

“Yes, I guess it was a bit pushy on my part but I named the town after Blair.” She smiled looking at the silent guide. “A mother’s prerogative,” she finished and Jim nodded. He had few memories of his mother, she had died when he was seven, but he remembered her soft touch and loving soul and guessed Naomi was of the same ilk.

Conversation continued, if somewhat strained, Naomi and Charlie giving a brief history of Blairstown, no one mentioning guides or sentinels. Jim, in turn, gave them some information he had heard in his travels and talked about the wild country he had crossed.

Blair, gaining enthusiasm as Jim talked about his travels across the plains, asked a lot of questions about customs he had observed and asked for detailed descriptions of the various tribes that dotted the American Plains. Jim relaxed, listening to the guide’s soothing voice as they made their way through the meal, and it was already growing dark when they finished. 

Glancing out the window and realizing he had been with the council far longer than expected, Jim pulled himself back from the soothing sounds and scents of the guide, and stood. “I should be going,” he grabbed for his hat.

“We’ll be in town at least two more days, Mr. Ellison. Why don’t you join us for dinner tomorrow?”

“I,” Jim paused. He knew he should leave. Get as far away as he could from Blairstown. It was dangerous being around Blair, the sentinel within him wanting so desperately to touch and taste the guide.

“Please,” Blair whispered and Jim was surprised when he found himself nodding in agreement. The smile he received in response was so beautiful and bright that Jim caught his breath. 

“Three, then,” Naomi cut in and Jim nodded, dumbly, before thanking them and leaving.

Naomi went to the window and watched him go, striding purposely down the street, and then turned back to her son. “I think you’re smitten with Mr. Ellison,” she said. 

Blair smiled in response, but then looked away, trying to hide his disappointment. “He’s leaving in two days.”

“Not if I can help it,” Naomi said softly. So softly Blair didn’t hear her.

***

Jim walked quickly down the road, glad to put some distance between himself and the guide as he made his way toward the boarding house. Ignoring the biting cold as the temperature dropped, a sure sign of snow to come, Jim took small even breaths, releasing smoke into the air around him as the warmth within his body dissipated. He needed to relax, clear his head, and forget about the scent and sound of the guide. “How the hell had a guide ended up here anyway?” he grumbled. This was totally unfair. He had made it all the way here from the west, crossing three thousand miles by horse, ferry and foot. He was close to his goal, his plans well-formed and nearly achieved. Another week or two and he could reach the sentinel camps and his own freedom. Why had fate thrown this last obstacle at him?

Drawing another breath, Jim stopped and looked around at the town. It wasn’t much to look at, certainly nothing compared to Cascade or Seattle or San Francisco with their busy ports, shops and taverns. But Jim had never been the flashy sort. It was one of the things that had always annoyed his father. Maybe it was because of his senses, but Jim preferred a quiet night at home to the boisterous and smelly streets or the stuffy drawing rooms and pretentious attitudes of the very rich and powerful his father had associated with.

“It wouldn’t be so bad staying here,” the voice in his head whispered, added seductively, “with the guide.” Jim tried to ignore the voice. He had made plans, plans to head into the Catskills and he didn’t know anything about Blair or Blairstown. “You know it is a decent town,” the voice answered, relentlessly. “And even if you didn’t, you’re a sentinel, you could find out.”

“Oh shut up,” Jim scolded himself in exasperation and started walking purposefully towards the boarding house. He had agreed to join the council for dinner tomorrow; he would just have to make sure he left the day after. Feeling he had accomplished something, he went into the boarding house and nodded to Mrs. Hutchins as Maria and Juan ran over, each grabbing one of his hands and pulling him over to the Christmas Tree. 

“Poner el ángel en la parte superior del árbol de Navidad, las súplicas,” Maria asked pointing to the small angel on the table.

Realizing the children couldn’t reach the top of the tree, Jim carefully placed the angel on the top and stepped back admiring the tree.

“I see they asked you to help them with the tree,” Mrs. Hutchins said, entering the room and carrying in a plate with some small pieces of toasted bread spread with jam. Mrs. Hutchins offered Jim a slice but he shook his head, rubbing his full stomach as Maria and Juan each took a slice and went back to putting finishing touches on the tree.

“I’ll get the fire going in the fireplace up in your bedroom,” Mrs. Hutchins turned to leave. 

“No rush,” Jim replied softly, wondering if he could find out anything about the town, “guide” the voice in his head corrected. Mrs. Hutchins turned back with a smile and took a seat, indicating that Jim should sit on one of the sofas.

“Did you enjoy your meal with the council?”

“The food was good and the company was pleasant,” Jim admitted.

“I’ve always found the council pleasant,” she agreed. “Naomi, Blair and Charlie are good people. When my husband first brought Juan and Maria here, they helped me with the children. Juan already goes to school. Blair is his teacher. In another year Maria will join him. Blair insists that girls learn to read and write too.”

“I thought Blair was a farmer and part of the town council.”

“He is, but we don’t have a schoolmarm yet so he’s covering. He says education is the stepping stone to the future.” She sighed, glancing at the children. “Blair’s teaching them English, though I sometimes suspect that it’s more like him learning Spanish.”

“I didn’t realize Blair had any type of educational degree.”

“Oh goodness yes! Naomi spared no expense when it came to his education. I believe he graduated from Yale.”

“It is supposed to be a very good school,” Jim answered. Jim had never been to college. He’d never even been to school. As a child of a wealthy businessman and politician, he had been given tutors all his life. He figured his education was pretty good but it would be nothing compared to Blair’s. 

Hearing the children giggle, he glanced over and noticed Maria putting a small cloth doll on a branch of the tree. “They are beautiful children,” he commented with a smile.

“My husband was a mail carrier on the post roads. He was traveling back from New York when he met Juan and Maria’s mother. She had come on a boat from Spain and planned on heading to Florida.” Mrs. Hutchins turned back to Jim. “She became ill and died and no one knew how to contact any of her relatives. My husband couldn’t leave the children alone on the road, so he brought them here. They were a comfort when my husband passed.”

“I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”

“It’s alright,” Mrs. Hutchins wiped at her eyes. “Daniel was attacked on the road. He was carrying mail on the Boston Post Road. It’s fortunate that we had put some of the money he earned into a boarding house or I would have been left with nothing.” She stood and sighed. “I’d best get your room ready.”

Jim stood as well. “I can take care of the room, you needn’t bother.”

“Are you sure?” 

“Of course, I think Maria and Juan might want some help with the tree.” Mrs. Hutchins turned and looked at the children, a smile playing across her features. 

“Christmas is such a short time away,” she said absently. “I’m going to try and make it special for them.”

“I’m sure you’ll succeed,” Jim answered before giving her a slight bow and heading up the stairs.

In the small bedroom, Jim opened the fireplace flue and, using dried grass lit some kindling and got a fire started before adding a small amount of coal. On the dresser was a pitcher and bowl, and he poured water into the bowl and washed his hands and face as the room began to warm. Finishing, he sat down on the bed and considered Mrs. Hutchins’ words as he undressed.

She seemed to have a lot of respect for the town council and, specifically, for Blair. 

“This is a nice little town,” the voice in his head whispered. “You could build a homestead here. You’re not far from the sentinel camp if you need it and you’d be near the guide.”

“I don’t know anything about him,” Jim answered back and heard the voice in his head chuckle. 

“What’s there to know? According to Mrs. Hutchins, he’s hardworking, caring, a teacher, and town administrator. And he is a guide.”

“Maybe he’s not as good as he seems,” Jim snarled back. But Jim knew he didn’t believe that. Something about the guide felt right.

“Stay and get to know him, then,” the voice answered smugly.

***

The inviting smell of maple syrup and cooking milk got Jim up the next morning. The room was cold, the fire having gone out in the night, and he quickly dressed and made his way to the outhouse before coming into the warm kitchen and greeting Mrs. Hutchins.

The children were already eating breakfast, Mrs. Hutchins hurrying Juan along and talking about school as she handed Jim a cup of warm cider. “Good morning,” she said, as she dished out a helping of porridge with syrup and placed it on the table, indicating Jim should eat.

“Good morning,” Jim tasted the porridge and smiled. “This is very good.”

“Thank you. It’s an old family recipe.” Mrs. Hutchins turned and looked over her border. “Will you be leaving today?”

“I think it will depend on the weather but I should be here at least another day, if that’s okay.”

Mrs. Hutchins smiled in response and handed Juan his coat. “Mr. Sandburg doesn’t like children late for school, so no dawdling,” she lectured as Juan started out the door.

“He understands what you are saying?”

“Understand, yes, but he doesn’t speak English too well yet.” 

Jim watched him go and then turned back to the widow. “I was thinking of getting a look around the area today, before the snow comes in.”

“You think it’s going to snow? The sun’s out.”

Jim nodded, his senses telling him that storm was coming in. “I think there’ll be snow and it’s going to be heavy.”

Mrs. Hutchins looked Jim over thoughtfully deciding if the man had traveled all the way from the Pacific he must have some experience with weather prediction, especially crossing the plains and mountains. Nodding to herself, she accepted his prediction. “Well, then, I’d best take care of some errands today.” She waited until Maria finished eating and ushered her from the room.

Not sure what he was going to do until his meeting with the town council, Jim stood and made his way out onto the main street of the town, walking around and looking at the various houses. Tipping his hat to two women walking by, he made his way to the saloon and sat in a quiet corner, watching the local people come and go, his inner voice demanding that he get a reading on the town. He drank sassafras tea and listened in on several conversations, all confirming his opinion that the town was made up of hard-working farmers and ranchers. Finally, Jim wandered off and found himself at the sheriff’s office. The office was empty and Jim could tell it had been for some time. There was a layer of dust in the one cell and just a few scattered papers around the room. Deciding the town must not need the jail too often he stepped back outside and almost collided with Naomi Sandburg.

“Good day, ma’am,” he tipped his hat and Naomi smiled. 

“Good day, Mr. Ellison. I see you’ve been looking at our Sheriff’s Office. I’m afraid we don’t have a sheriff. We’ve been looking for someone to fill the job,” she sighed, her eyes on Jim. “When we have a legal problem we have to send to one of the larger towns.”

Jim nodded sympathetically as Naomi hooked an arm around his to keep him from escaping. “Would you like a tour of our town? I, for one, am very proud of it.” Knowing it would be rude to say no with the lady’s arm locked around his, Jim smiled and walked with her down the small dirt road as she filled in details about the town, until they stood before a small framed structure. “This is the schoolhouse. We don’t have a teacher yet, but Blair fills in.” She stepped up the two small steps and entered the one-room schoolhouse. 

Jim, following her, glanced up at the clouds starting to move in before entering.

Inside, there were benches set in rows and children were seated on the benches, holding chalkboards in their laps. Blair was in the front of the room where there was a much larger blackboard. Just then the board was empty. Blair was perched on the edge of his desk reading a story to the students, all of whom sat mesmerized listening to the tale of a hero named Odysseus.

Jim smiled, remembering the tales. He had read and enjoyed them as a boy. Glancing over at Blair, his nose in the book, his spectacles precariously balanced on the end of his nose, the guide looked in his element. Blair might be a farmer and a part of the town council, but it was obvious teaching was his gift and his love as he filled the room with wonder, the children spellbound as he read aloud.

After a few moments he finished the chapter and looked up, freezing when he saw Jim standing in the back of the room.

“Students,” he said almost absently. “I’d like everyone to work on their writing for a few moments while I speak with our guests.”

Suddenly, fifteen pairs of eyes were focused on Jim and Naomi. Naomi, obviously having visited the schoolroom before, smiled in greeting as Jim shifted nervously. 

Walking to the back, his smile growing brighter with each step, he looked at Jim.

“I was giving Mr. Ellison a tour of our town,” Naomi said quietly, before stepping away and walking over to speak with some of the children.

“It’s a nice town,” Blair said absently, getting closer and Jim drew back, groping for something to say.

Falling back on the weather as a safe subject, he asked, “Shouldn’t your students be home? There is a snowstorm coming in.”

“A snowstorm,” Blair repeated dreamily and then blinked. “What, a snowstorm?”

“I can feel the weather,” Jim waved his hand in the air. “It’s going to start soon.”

Shaking his head to clear it, Blair stepped back before turning to the students. “Everyone,” he called out and the students turned to look at him. “I want you all to go home and let your parents know there will be a snowstorm today.”

He could hear excited murmurs from the students and he smiled at them. “Remember I expect everyone back at school two days after Christmas. We’ll find out then how Odysseus got away from the Cyclops.” With those final words, Blair went to his desk and pulled out a tray of candies and as each student exited, Blair handed him or her a piece of maple candy.

Once they were gone Blair turned to Naomi. “You should let the townsfolk know there’s going to be a snowstorm.” He turned to Jim, “A heavy one?”

“Yeah, I think it’s going to be bad.”

Naomi looked from her son to the sentinel. “I’ll let them know. You should close up the schoolhouse. I’ll head back to the farm to make sure everything is secured there. Will you be coming home or riding out the storm in town?” 

“Since we don’t have a sheriff, maybe, I should stay in town. You and Charlie should get going,” Blair leaned forward to kiss his mother’s cheek.

“We’ll head out just as soon as we let everyone know a storm is coming. I’m sorry I won’t be able to join you for dinner this evening but I’m sure Blair will make a good host.” With that Naomi turned and left, leaving Jim and Blair behind. 

“You don’t have to feed me dinner,” Jim said to Blair as soon as Naomi was gone.

“I have to eat,” Blair hesitated. “And I’d love the company. We could eat at the saloon instead of having the food delivered.”

Jim knew sitting with Blair was probably a bad idea but he told himself that he would be in a busy room, probably not too close to the guide and he had to eat too. Never mind that the evil voice inside his head was chuckling. “I guess we could do that. Can I help you close up the schoolhouse?” Jim asked and Blair smiled, glad Jim had accepted his invitation.

“There’s not much to closing it. I have to put away the blackboards, close the shutters and dampen the fire in the stove.” Blair indicated the potbelly stove in the corner.

“I’ll do the shutters,” Jim answered and moved over towards the small windows, closing and locking them. Finishing, he turned and watched as Blair carefully placed the chalkboards in a small chest.

“I can tell you love teaching and your students love you.”

“Thanks, they’re great kids and they all seem eager to learn.” He turned and opened the door and the pair went out onto the road. As they walked, they could feel the wind picking up speed, and doubled their pace as they went down the road to the Horse and Pony Saloon.

Walking in, Blair glanced around, waving to the owner/bartender, Evan Green, and calling out, “Hello Evan,” before moving to a small table in the corner. In minutes, his waitress, cook and wife, Lottie Green, walked over. Lottie was a nicely rounded woman in a sedate black dress and white lace pinafore. Her hair, tied back in a bun, was slowly graying, but her face was pleasant, with laugh lines that matched her husband’s. “Hi Blair,” she said, with a welcoming smile. She turned and looked at Jim. “I heard Mrs. Hutchins had a border. Hello.”

“Hello,” Jim smiled. “I guess news travels fast in a small town.”

“It sure does. What can I get for you gentlemen?”

“Beer?” Blair suggested and Jim nodded. “And dinner.”

Taking the order Lottie disappeared as Jim glanced around. The place was your typical small town saloon. There was an upright player piano against a wall, a bar that dominated the center of the room, and tables, large and small scattered about the room. In one corner, there was a staircase that led up to the hotel rooms above and, near the staircase, two men were slouched over a table, a half empty bottle of whiskey between them. “We don’t have a sheriff in this town,” Blair said quietly and Jim turned his attention back to the guide.

“So your mother told me.”

“We try and make do,” Blair answered wistfully. “But if we had a sentinel sheriff we would do better.” He looked hopefully at Jim as Lottie returned with two plates of steaming stew.

Before Jim could answer, the bartender called out. “Andy, Cal, there’s a storm brewin’ out there. You should go back to the farm before it gets bad. You know your pappy will get mad if you get stuck in the town.” All eyes turned to the windows. The wind was blowing and snow was starting to swirl down.

The two men looked up and Jim could see very red eyes and smell dirt and alcohol on them. Making an effort not to wrinkle his nose in disgust, Jim turned back to Blair, as the two men stood, downed the last of the bottle of whiskey and lumbered drunkenly out the door.

“Blair,” Evan called. “I’m gonna be closin’ up soon because of the storm comin’ in.”

“It’s supposed to get bad,” Blair answered, as the bartender began closing the shutters on the liquor cabinet.

“You stayin’ in town?”

“Naomi went back to the farm but I’m going to ride out the storm here.”

Evan glanced over. “You have enough supplies? You need anythin’ before I lock up?”

“No, but thanks.”

Blair turned back to Jim as Evan told Lottie to see about closing the kitchen. “We wouldn’t know how bad the storm was going to be if it weren’t for you.”

Jim shrugged and Blair studied him. The guide in Blair so wanted to reach out to Jim. “You won’t leave in the storm?” he asked, nervously. Blair knew the sentinel wanted to leave, but Blair wanted just a little more time with him.

“No, I’ll be staying at Mrs. Hutchins’ another night.”

“Good,” Blair smiled approvingly and then pushed back his long, curly hair. “I’d better go and check on the telegraph office,” he stood.

“You didn’t finish your food,” Jim pointed out, realizing he didn’t want Blair to leave just yet.

“Lottie will see to it that the food is sent to my rooms. She’s used to delivering the food.” Rising, Blair held out his hand. “You will come and say good-bye before you leave?” he asked.

Jim stood and took Blair’s hand, feeling the warmth and the connection, all too aware that his brain would be arguing with him again, tonight. “I will,” he promised, sitting down to finish his food and watching Blair close his coat and start out the door.

***

Blair was heading across the road, noting the shutters already closed on most of the buildings when he noticed Andy and Cal in the distance. They were standing in front of Mrs. Hutchins’ boarding house as though they planned on seeing if there were any rooms available.

Not liking the idea that Andy and Cal were drunk, and knowing the pair were mean drunks and trouble at the best of times, Blair started down the road as they went into the building.

Reaching the door, Blair debated whether or not to enter. He certainly didn’t want to chase away Mrs. Hutchins’ business and he didn’t have a gun with him, but he needed to know everything was okay. After a moment’s debate, he knocked on the door and then entered. Mrs. Hutchins met him in the doorway looking very nervous.

“Hello, Mr. Sandburg,” she whispered and Blair could hear the tremor in her voice as she held a tray of beer in her hands, Juan and Maria beside her.

“Mrs. Hutchins, I came to see if everything was okay with the storm coming in.”

“Lady, where’s our drinks,” came a bellow from the sitting room and Blair walked past her to stand in the doorway and look at Andy and Cal slumped over two of her sofas, Andy pulling cookies from the tree violently enough to make the balsam shake in its stand. 

Walking into the room, Mrs. Hutchins placed the beer down on the small table and took a step back, standing near the fireplace, as Andy grabbed a glass, downing the contents. Blair could see her movements were a tactical mistake. It put the two large, drunk men between her and the doorway.

“Cal, Andy, shouldn’t you be heading home before the storm?” Blair asked with what he hoped passed for friendly advice.

“Like you care, schoolteacher,” Cal snarled. “Blairstown and Blair,” he continued contemptuously, rising to his feet. “My pa says I should be more like my cousin Luke or you.” Cal towered over Blair, a finger poking him in the chest. “A sissy schoolteacher.”

Andy, walking over to join his brother, knocked Blair’s hat off his head and fingered a curl. “You even look like a woman,” he added, yanking on some of Blair’s long curls. 

Staring into Andy’s face, seeing a belligerent look, Blair knew he was going to have trouble. His hand closed around Andy’s wrist to stop the man from yanking out his hair as he tried to keep the situation from escalating. “We don’t want trouble here, boys. I just came to make sure Mrs. Hutchins would be alright, what with the storm coming in,” he said reasonably, trying to diffuse the situation. Blair knew he couldn’t win if he tried to take these two on alone. They each had fifty pounds on him and both were a head taller. But there was no way he would leave Mrs. Hutchins alone with two drunks. Silently, he cursed himself for not bringing back up as he tried to think of a way to talk the two men down.

“We’ll make sure she’s alright,” Andy answered, still holding Blair’s hair, his foul breath in Blair’s face.

“Mrs. Hutchins,” Blair continued as though they hadn’t spoken, trying to hold tight to Andy’s wrist to keep him from pulling out hair. “Maybe you had best go over to the saloon and get some food supplies,” Blair suggested, wanting to get her and the children safely out of the room and away from the brothers.

“She ain’t goin nowhere,” Cal answered with a smile that showed blackened teeth, as she made a halting step forward trying to get past them. “I told you, we’d take care of her. She’s gonna entertain us,” he pointed to an upright piano in the corner of the room.

“At least send the children to get supplies,” Blair answered, thinking they might find a way to let others know about the danger. Andy nodded his agreement.

“That’ll be fine. Neither of them speaks but a word of English and I don’t like little kids around that can’t talk to me,” Cal agreed and the brothers watched as Mrs. Hutchins called to the children, telling them to get their coats and go to the saloon to get some milk and cheese.

“You know Andy. I bet schoolteacher here could use a lesson in how to treat a woman.” As Cal said this he yanked the cord off the window sash, the curtain ripping as it closed. “We should let him watch,” he answered with a nasty smile as he flexed the cord.

Knowing Mrs. Hutchins was in danger, with no other recourse available, Blair took a swing at Andy, hoping it would give her time to get away. He wasn’t angled right for the hit, his stronger hand still holding Andy’s wrist, but his fist connected with Andy’s jaw and the man let go of Blair’s hair, falling backwards, just missing the couch and landing on his butt on the floor. Unfortunately, he still blocked the escape route.

Mrs. Hutchins cried out as Cal snarled and dove into Blair knocking the wind out of him and slamming him down into Andy, whose large arms came round Blair, pinning him. “Hold him, Andy,” Cal yelled, as he looped the cord around Blair, pinning his arms. “This is how you hogtie a calf, schoolteacher,” he continued looping the cord despite Blair’s struggles until he was sure Blair was secured. Looking over his handy work, he nodded to his brother who released his hold on Blair and Cal lifted him by the collar of his jacket, throwing him onto a couch. “You okay?” he asked his brother. Andy rubbed his jaw but nodded. 

“He hits like a girl,” he commented, but he was still rubbing his face and grimacing as he grabbed his glass of beer.

The two men turned back to Mrs. Hutchins. “We had our drinks, so I guess it’s time for entertainment,” Cal leered.

***

Maria and Juan ran down the street looking for help. Bursting into the saloon, they saw Jim sitting at table and ran over to him, dropping into their native Spanish as they told him about the bad men at Mrs. Hutchins’.

Evan was in the basement locking up and Lottie, seeing the excited children, came over. “Is something wrong?” she asked and Jim nodded. 

“There are two men at Mrs. Hutchins and they scared the children and Mrs. Hutchins. Blair’s there.”

“It must be those two idiot brothers. What should we do?”

“I’ll go over and help. Can you keep the children here?”

“Of course,” Lottie took their hands.

Standing he glanced around. “Does Evan have a rifle?”

“Behind the bar,” Lottie pointed and Jim retrieved it, looking over it and checking that it was loaded. “I’ll let him know you’ve taken it.” Jim nodded, heading out the door.

It was amazing how fast the snow was accumulating, as Jim made his way down to the Hutchins house. The storm had turned into a blizzard, the wind was howling and sweeping the snow sideways, limiting visibility. Stopping by the door and listening to hear what was going on inside, he could hear Blair.

“Cal, Andy, think about what you’re doing. So far you haven’t done too much damage, your father could pay some damages and that would be the end of it. If you keep this up, you’ll be facing jail time.”

One of the men laughed, “We’re not gonna hurt anyone. We’re just keeping her company through the storm.” Jim had heard enough and, making sure the safety was off, Jim opened the door. “Mrs. Hutchins,” he called out and walked in stamping his feet, loudly. 

Jim could hear one of the men turn and ask, “Who’s that?” and Mrs. Hutchins answer in quiet voice, “A drifter taking a room for the night,” before Cal stepped out into the hall and found himself face to face with the barrel of a rifle. He just had time to shout, “What the hell!” before Jim swung the butt of the rifle, slamming it against Cal’s temple and dropping him to the ground.

Andy, hearing his brother shout, started for the door, but he never made it. Blair, seeing Andy turn, jumped up and barreled into him. Blair’s hands were still tied but he slammed into Andy with his entire body, knocking Andy to the floor and falling beside him. Blair immediately rolled over away from Andy as Jim pointed the rifle at the intruder.

“Don’t move,” Jim growled as he looked over at Mrs. Hutchins. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, thanks to you and Mr. Sandburg. Where are the children?”

“With Lottie at the saloon,” Jim answered and indicated Blair. “Could you untie him? Then we’ll get rid of this trash and get the children home.”

Mrs. Hutchins came forward and began working on the knots. Her hands were shaky but she was calming quickly. Getting the cord off Blair, she stepped back, a hand covering her mouth as Jim kicked Andy. “Get up,” he commanded, the rifle at the ready. “What do we do with them?” 

“I guess we should put them in the jail,” Blair answered. “After the storm, if their father doesn’t come looking for them, we’ll send for him.”

Jim nodded and looked over at Andy, waving the rifle at him. “Help your brother up, we’re leaving.” Andy looked up at the rifle and Jim raised one eyebrow. “I won’t think twice about shooting you,” he warned and stepped back, watching as Andy slowly got to his feet and helped his brother up. 

The pair staggered down the road, shivering in the wind and snow, Blair and Jim behind them, until they entered the jail. Opening a cell door, Blair indicated they should enter and then stepped back. When the brothers were in the cell, he tossed in four heavy blankets and closed and locked it. “They should be fine until morning,” he turned to Jim. “I have to get the children and bring them back to Mrs. Hutchins before the storm gets any worse.”

“You sure we can leave them?”

Blair glanced over them and then nodded. “They’ll sleep off the alcohol,” he answered, indicating that Jim should come with him. Closing the shutters and locking the door on the way out, he quickly made his way to the saloon. 

Lottie and Evan were both waiting and smiled with relief when Blair and Jim walked in, Jim handing Evan the rifle. “Thanks.”

Evan took it, glancing at Blair. “Is everything okay?” he asked as the children came over.

Blair nodded. “Cal and Andy are locked up in the jail.” He turned to Maria and Juan. “I think it’s time you two got home.” He took Juan’s hand as Jim lifted Maria and the four hurried through the snow to Mrs. Hutchins.

The widow hugged both children when they came through the door and then hugged both Blair and Jim. “Thank you, both,” she said over and over. “Let me get you something to warm you up.”

Both men politely declined, suggesting Mrs. Hutchins get the children to bed and then get some rest. Nodding in agreement, she turned to let Blair out and then lock up. The snow was already piling up outside and Blair huddled in his coat, preparing to leave. Reluctant to let Blair go, Jim spoke up. “Maybe, I should go with you in case you have a problem with those two,” Jim suggested, refusing to admit that he just wanted a bit more time with the guide before he left town.

Blair considered the idea, thinking he would be with the sentinel, and smiled. “I will have to check on them once or twice,” he agreed. “Some back up might be good.”

“Do you have room for me at your place?”

Blair nodded, “Come on,” and the two hurried through the snow to the rooms Blair used when in town. 

Just as they got there, Lottie turned up bringing the food Blair had left at the saloon. “Hi Blair,” she smiled as he opened the door letting her in and glancing at the large basket. “I brought your food, and little extra in case Mr. Ellison gets hungry. Oh,” she paused and pulled out a small bottle of fruit wine. “Evan sent this and said he hopes it keeps you warm tonight.”

“Thanks, Lottie,” Blair took the basket and she adjusted her shawl, turning to the door.

“I should get back before the snow gets worse. Good night,” she said and left.

Blair put the basket on the table, pulling out two glasses and the bottle. “Can I pour you a drink?”

“Yeah, thanks,” Jim took a seat at the table. Blair poured two glasses and handed one to Jim before pulling out the food and offering Jim some.

“I’m good, thanks,” Jim lifted the glass of wine and downed some of the sweet liquid. “What’s going to happen to the two in the jail?”

Blair sighed. “Their father will probably come looking for them early tomorrow. Their father, Aaron, is a good man. He’ll pay Mrs. Hutchins restitution for whatever they damaged. Evan will ban them from the saloon, I expect.”

“They might have done much worse than just damage property.”

“But they didn’t and after Aaron hears what might have happened, he’ll probably horsewhip them.”

Jim shook his head before finishing his drink and going to look out the window. Snow and ice were falling quickly and Jim could feel the moisture in the air. “They deserve worse,” he finally stated, and Blair couldn’t help but agree.

“By tomorrow, Christmas Eve,” he added, “they’ll be shunned by the town and surrounding community. I feel bad for Aaron. He’s worked hard and to end up with two drunks for sons.” He sighed sadly, pushing a hand through his hair. “None of this would have happened if we had a sheriff,” he turned hopeful eyes on Jim, staring at Jim’s back, willing him to take the job and stay.

“Look, Blair, I’m on my way to the mountains.”

“To the sentinel camps,” Blair accused, his eyes flashing. “You don’t know where they are; you don’t know if they even exist. They may be a myth.”

“I’m not changing my plans and I’m leaving in the morning,” Jim answered in a cold voice, ignoring the pain that suddenly flared in his chest at the idea of leaving.

“You could stay through Christmas,” Blair whispered, painfully.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea,” Jim answered quietly, and Blair turned to look at the food basket to hide his face, knowing it would show just how devastated he felt at those words.

Pulling back, knowing he couldn’t force Jim to stay, he said in a dead voice, “I guess I should get some rest. I’ll have to check on Cal and Andy a couple of times during the night.”

“I can check them as well,” Jim offered.

“No, you’re a guest,” he said quietly. “You can stay in my room. I’ll stay in Naomi’s,” Jim turned back and saw Blair point to a room, his face hidden behind his curls.

“Thanks,” Jim said, and turned to the room thinking it was a good thing he wasn’t sleeping in the same room with Blair. He knew he’d end up curled against the guide, enjoying Blair’s heartbeat, his nose in those luxurious curls.

Blair nodded and put out his hand. Coming over, Jim shook it and then, reluctantly pulling back, turned to the room as Blair watched him go. It took all of his strength to keep from going after Jim and he turned to Naomi’s room, knowing if he had tried to share a room with Jim, he would have ended up curled against Jim’s body.

Twice during the night, Blair got up and went and checked on Cal and Andy. They were sleeping off their drunken bout and never realized someone took the time to check on them. After the second check-in, Blair trudged back through a foot and half of snow and into his warm bed. 

In the morning, when he got up, Jim was gone.

***

Despite the cold and snow, Jim made his way out of Blairstown, once again heading north. The snow had stopped falling sometime during the night, leaving drifts of up to two feet, but Jim was determined to put as much distance as possible between himself and Blair Sandburg. He had stopped at Mrs. Hutchins’ long enough to pick up his gear he had left there and then with a last look around, headed into the wild.

Taking a break, Jim cleared a large, round rock of snow, taking a seat and pulling out some dried beef jerky. Nibbling on it, he carefully kept his mind from Blairstown. Instead, he considered the date. It was Christmas Eve. Had he been home in Cascade, he would have spent the day in a burst of visits to his father’s associates before having a large dinner.

Jim glanced at the beef jerky deciding it was better than anything he might get in Cascade. “But you could be having dinner with Blair,” that pesky voice in his head pointed out.

“Why would I want to?” Jim growled aloud.

“Because he is your guide.”

“We’re not bonded.” Jim figured that would end the argument.

“But you could be,” came the seductive response. 

Jim ignored it and packed away the rest of the jerky, having lost his appetite. He kept telling himself that he had to get to the sentinel camp and lay down provisions but he knew his heart wasn’t in it and for some reason he didn’t seem to be making much progress traveling. By the afternoon, he had only gone about four miles and for the last two, he could swear he had seen, of all things, a black jaguar blocking various trails that he planned on taking. 

Sitting down, frustrated at his lack of progress, Jim pulled out more dried meat as the cat came over and sat down in front of him.

“I suppose you want some meat,” Jim grumbled, for some reason not questioning the big cat’s presence outside of a South American jungle and not concerned about its presence. He didn’t actually know why, but he felt no threat from the feline. He held out a piece of the meat offering it, but the cat gave a disdainful sniff. “Okay, than what do you want?”

The jaguar looked back the way Jim had come and then at Jim with large, intelligent eyes.

“I have to keep going this way if I’m going to make the sentinel camp,” Jim answered and the cat again looked back the way Jim had come and then at Jim. “If I go back to that town I’ll never leave.” He paused wondering why he was explaining himself to an overgrown cat. 

And, as if the jaguar realized Jim wasn’t listening, it morphed into an Indian Warrior. Jim had heard sentinels could sometimes see spirts both animal and human, so he decided either he was going crazy or he was seeing one of the spirits.

The warrior was tall and proud with short leather breeches and a painted chest. Feathers dangled from his hair and he carried a spear. His dark eyes stared into Jim’s and he asked in deep baritone voice, “What do you fear?” 

Jim paused in surprise, saying nothing and the warrior asked again, “What do you fear?”

Jim considered the question before deciding you don’t ignore jaguars that turn into warriors with spears. “Captivity,” he answered.

“A guide does not hold a sentinel captive,” the warrior answered. “He watches over his sentinel and yes, he controls the sentinel, but the sentinel also controls the guide. This control is called love and the two are made one, whole.” The warrior watched Jim. “Because you have not known unconditional love since you were a child does not mean you cannot love and be loved.”

With that the warrior turned back into the jaguar and disappeared into the trees.

Jim watched the large cat leap off and wondered whether he was losing his mind. He cast his eyes north and then south, thinking about the future.

Finally he stood, and gathering his things, started walking. 

***

Andy and Cal woke with incredible headaches and were shocked to find themselves in jail. Remembering nothing of the night before, they yelled, calling out for someone until Blair came into the backroom of the sheriff’s office. They stared at Blair through the bars of the cell and snarled demanding to be released. Blair simply shook his head and waited for Aaron to arrive. Blair was sure Aaron would show up looking for his sons now that the storm was over. 

Evan usually opened the saloon sometime around nine and Blair walked over to order breakfast. Lottie and Evan were sitting at one of the tables, drinking sassafras tea and Lottie got out another cup when Blair walked in. “Morning Blair,” she greeted. “I take it you and Mr. Ellison will be wanting breakfast.”

“Just me. Mr. Ellison left this morning.”

“Oh, I guess he just wanted to ride out the storm here.” She glanced over Blair thoughtfully. “That’s too bad. With that strong body, he’d have made a nice sheriff.”

Blair didn’t answer. There was no reason to say what Jim was or what he could have done with his senses, never mind the strong body (though Blair did have some ideas about what he would have done with that strong body).

Gratefully sipping at the tea, he glanced around. “What time are you closing for the Christmas party?” Naomi, Charlie and Blair were footing the bill for a Christmas Eve Party. The townspeople, nearby farmers and ranchers were all invited to stop in for some sweet apple jack, fermented beer and cakes and Mrs. Hutchins had agreed to play some Christmas carols for a sing-a-long.

“We’ll close by two and set up, that way those who live further away have a chance to come and get home before dark.” Lottie looked around. “I’ll have the place decorated a bit this morning and some of the cakes are already in the oven out back.”

“Great,” Blair finished his tea looking out the window of the saloon. The road was piled with snow but people were coming out to take care of last minute business before Christmas day. “I’d better get back to the jail. I’m sure Aaron will come looking for Andy and Cal.”

“Should we send them some breakfast?”

“They’re hung over as it is. I don’t need them sick. But if their father doesn’t show up by noon, I’ll have to get them some food.”

Lottie smiled and Evan reached out to Blair, a hand landing on his arm. “That fella, Mr. Ellison, he was a sentinel, wasn’ he?” Blair looked at Evan in surprise and the man shrugged. “I never seen you moon over anyone before but when he was with you, you lit up like the sun.”

“He’s the one that warned us about the approaching storm. We might have been caught unaware but for him,” Blair admitted.

“And you couldn’ talk him into stayin’?” Evan asked.

Blair shook his head. “He was only passing through.”

“Maybe he’ll come back,” Lottie offered, as Blair stood. He had work to do and crying over what might have been, would not get it done.

“I’d better get back to the sheriff’s office. I guess Aaron should turn up soon.”

“We’ll see you later at the party,” Lottie answered with a sad smile as Blair left, making his way to the jail. 

The brothers started grumbling as soon as Blair walked in, but Blair could tell the brothers were subdued and Blair guessed they were beginning to understand they might be in serious trouble.

Blair took a seat at the desk, looking off and wondering where Jim might be and then shaking his head. “You have to forget about the sentinel,” he scolded himself. But “saying and doing” were two very different things and Blair couldn’t help but think about the sentinel he had just met and the sentinels he had met in the past…. 

Blair first met a sentinel when he was attending Yale University, living in a small room at a local boarding house. That was where he met Rafe. Rafe was a fellow student also staying at the boarding house. At their first meeting, when they shook hands, Blair felt an immediate attraction to Rafe and realized he was sensing a sentinel. But Blair also felt a bond in place and pulled back into himself.

A week later, Rafe insisted that Blair join him for dinner and, at the tavern, introduced him to Megan Connor, Rafe’s fiancée and guide. Megan hadn’t been all that friendly, at first. She had sensed Blair was a guide and potential rival for Rafe, but when she realized Blair would not try and claim what was hers, she became a good friend. The three had been inseparable during Blair’s second year at the university, spending many evenings together talking about what they would do after they finished their studies. Megan and Rafe were already planning on accepting a homestead and post as sentinel and guide up north, near Acadia. 

And then, at an end term party, Blair met another sentinel.

Alex Barnes was beautiful. She had long blonde hair which, unlike the other girls, she did not tie back. Her eyes were hazel and danced with an almost unholy light. Blair, like most men, was captivated.

When introduced by their host, Blair could sense that she had sentinel abilities but, something just felt wrong about her. Blair’s abilities as a guide did not connect with her as a sentinel. Blair wondered if this was because she was a woman, but discounted that theory when he thought of Megan and Rafe. They connected perfectly as sentinel and guide. As an alternate theory, Blair suspected there might be something wrong with her sentinel instincts. She didn’t express any need to protect the tribe, the hallmark of any sentinel and, on the few occasions when she used her senses, it was for darker purposes. He had seen her use information about a young lady to disgrace her. Still, like a moth to a flame, Blair buzzed around her, mesmerized. 

Alex liked the attention and danced and played with Blair, just as she did with all the other potential suitors about her, never acknowledging that he was a guide or she a sentinel. At the third gathering where they both were in attendance, Blair tried to speak with her about her abilities. They had walked out to the garden to get some air and Blair had suggested they sit by a fountain.

“Abilities,” she actually laughed. “Hearing whispered secrets, seeing improper trysts. Yes, my abilities may prove profitable.” She let a finger slide down Blair’s cheek and he shivered. 

“Don’t you want to use your abilities to help others?”

“Why would I? People can fend for themselves and someday these abilities will make me very rich.”

“But you’ll need a guide to use your abilities” Blair whispered, not liking the way she planned to use her senses.

Alex let her eyes slide over Blair’s body. “When I need one, I’ll get one. For now, I am enjoying myself far too much to settle.” Blair shivered again at her words, but not with desire. Yes, Alex had heightened senses, but she was no sentinel and the guide within him was rejecting her.

Standing, Blair backed away at the comment, running a hand nervously through his hair. He didn’t understand it, but he didn’t question his need to get away from her and the fountain. He had this feeling that she wanted to kill him to keep people from knowing she was a sentinel so she could use her abilities on unsuspecting people! People would be far more cautious about what they said if they knew there was a sentinel in their midst, and she planned on using all the information she could garner. Blair could imagine her blackmailing people with the secrets her senses could uncover. “I wish you luck in all your endeavors, Ms. Barnes,” he stated woodenly, not really meaning it. Then, he inclined his head and turned, heading inside leaving her playing with the water in the fountain.

Megan and Rafe were by the door watching for Blair when he walked back. “We were waiting for you,” Rafe said, quietly.

“We don’t trust her,” Megan added, just as softly as the three walked across the room, passing the musicians and stopping by a table with drinks.

“There is something wrong with her, as a sentinel?” Blair asked Megan.

“Yes, I sense it. I don’t know what it is, but you should stay away from her.”

Blair nodded his agreement and made a point of never being alone with her after that.

…Eventually, before he left Yale to return home, he heard she had married a rising politician. He imagined she would find all kinds of intrigue in politics.

At times, Blair still wondered what had gone wrong with her but having met Jim, Blair knew he had made the right decision in steering clear of Alex. Like Rafe, Blair felt connected to Jim, but because Jim was unbonded, the feelings for Jim were a thousand times stronger than they had been for Rafe. Sighing, knowing Jim was gone, Blair turned back to the paperwork on the brothers.

Aaron turned up just after he finished the paperwork and his face darkened as he heard what his sons had been up to. Promising to reimburse Mrs. Hutchins for damages, and agreeing his sons would not be allowed in the saloon and could not come into the town unsupervised, Aaron went in to see his sons.

Walking in to the backroom, Aaron looked at his two sons. “I should send you to prison,” he said angrily as his boys hung their heads, unwilling to look at their father. Blair followed Aaron in, carrying the cell keys. “Not only are you both going to apologize to Mr. Sandburg and Mrs. Hutchins but we are going to have a visit to the woodshed and neither of you will be leaving the farm again. If I need something in town, I’ll send your cousin, Luke.” Luke lived and worked the farm with Cal and Andy. But Luke was a hardworking farmer.

“Yes, Pa,” they mumbled, as Blair unlocked the cell.

Aaron waited and after a moment, both brothers whispered apologies, not looking at Blair and the three left, Aaron offering Blair an apology.

Blair walked to the door and watched as Aaron led them down towards Mrs. Hutchins’ boardinghouse and then turned to go back inside but stopped, a smile on his face as he saw Naomi and Charlie hurrying down the street.

“Blair, honey,” she reached up to kiss his cheek and then stopped. “Mr. Ellison left?” she asked softly, her voice sad, and Blair nodded. “Maybe, he’ll come back,” she suggested. She had planned on trying to find some way to talk the sentinel into staying but had missed his departure because of the storm. 

Blair tried to hide his disappointment from his mom. After all, it was Christmas Eve and they had a party to attend. He told her and Charlie about the events the previous night, and the three made their way to their rooms to dress for the party before making their way to the saloon.

Lottie had done some decorating, putting up small holly branches with red and green papers folded into shapes. She had put cakes out on a table and a large bowl filled with apple jack. On another table, were small cookies wrapped in colored papers for children. The tables had been cleaned and small red and green papers were used to decorate them. Naomi, swooping into the room, smiled in delight as she looked around. “This is wonderful,” she hugged Lottie as a few farmers came in.

There was lots of friendly chatting as people drifted in to celebrate, but Blair couldn’t get into it. Deciding he didn’t want to depress anyone else, he turned to Naomi. “I think someone should be at the farm.” All their workers were in town, celebrating. “I should go.”

Naomi looked at Blair. Within 48 hours his greatest wish had been put before him and then whisked away. “I understand, Blair,” she said softly. “I’m staying in town tonight but I’ll be home tomorrow morning. You’ll be alright alone tonight?” Blair nodded and kissed her and she walked with him to the stable where he got his horse before turning and leaving.

Naomi watched him go with a sad face before returning to the saloon. “Things will work out, Naomi. I feel it,” Charlie whispered beside her, his face scrunching up in concentration as he suddenly got a premonition (or hit as he called it).

“I hope so,” she answered. “I hate to see him so disappointed.” Naomi stopped and peered at Charlie

Blinking, he looked at her. “I think we need to go to the sheriff’s office,” he said, his face breaking into a smile. She glanced at him, not understanding, but turned to Lottie.

“We’ll be right back,” she said softly, tightening her shawl about her shoulders and heading out. The pair headed over to the Sheriff’s Office and opened the door, hurrying to get out of the cold. But the cold was forgotten as Naomi stopped in her tracks. 

Before her stood James Ellison.

“Mr. Ellison,” she smiled. “Are you considering staying? We have an opening for a sheriff.”

“I was going to discuss the job with Blair.”

“He’s at the farm, alone. He didn’t want to leave it unattended overnight and Charlie and I are staying in town tonight.”

“I guess I can’t see him then,” Jim said quietly and Naomi shook her head. 

“You could go to the farm. I hate to think of him there all alone on Christmas Eve. You could take my buggy and bring it back tomorrow with Blair. We could have a Christmas breakfast together and put together a contract.” She walked over to the desk drawer and reached in pulling out the small metal star that read Sheriff and handed it to Jim. “I guess you will officially start when we sign the contract, but that’s just a formality.”

Jim considered her words, his fingers running over the badge. “How do I get to the farm?”

“Follow the west road out of town, at the fork in the road, make a left. It’s a large frame house with a wraparound porch, about four miles west of here.”

Jim looked unsure, so, Naomi decided to push a bit more. “Go to the town stable and tell Matt to hitch my buggy.” Stepping forward, smiling, Naomi kissed Jim’s cheek. “Merry Christmas and welcome to the family,” she said softly and left before Jim could change his mind.

Walking back to the party, Naomi could feel her spirits soar. Blair’s greatest wish was granted and the town would have a sentinel sheriff. There could be no better Christmas present as far as she was concerned. 

***

Jim found the stable and got the buggy without any problems. He headed west out of town, following Naomi’s directions and a mile or so later passed the fork. Nudging the horse, he made his way to the large farmhouse. Through the windows, he could see the glow of a fire in the house, but didn’t see anyone around. He led the horse into the barn, unhitching the buggy and settling the horse with some hay and water. 

Closing the barn, he went back to the house and knocked on the door. When he didn’t get an answer, Jim went and peeked in one of the windows. He smiled when he realized Blair was fast asleep on a large rug by the fireplace. Going back to the door, he turned the handle, discovering the door unlocked and slipped quietly into the house. The heat was very welcome after the cold ride and Jim walked over to the fireplace to look down at the sleeping guide. 

Blair was gorgeous in the firelight. His hair sparkled with bronze tints in the flickering light of the fire and his face looked angelic. Bending, unable to resist, Jim ran a gentle hand down Blair’s cheek and Blair’s eyes opened. He smiled seeing his sentinel and then sat up as he realized he was actually seeing Jim and not dreaming.

“Hi,” Jim said softly. “I came back.”

Pushing his hair back nervously, Blair licked his lips. “What made you come back?” he whispered.

“It’s Christmas so I followed a star,” Jim pointed to the star pinned to his jacket.

Blair looked where Jim was pointing and saw the sheriff’s badge. He smiled as he realized what the badge pinned to Jim’s jacket meant. “It’s a nice star,” Blair looked up into Jim’s light blue eyes. “I take it, you’ve accepted the post.”

“Not yet. I’m going to meet with the town council tomorrow to discuss the job requirements and benefits and then, maybe I’ll sign the contract,” Jim smiled, teasing. “I’m sure of one thing. I’ll want a part time deputy. One who can help me with my senses. Maybe, a deputy who is also a part of the town council. I was thinking I’d ask Charlie-“

Jim gave an “Umph” as Blair attacked, grabbing him around the neck and pulling him down to kiss him.

Their tongues met, each exploring the other, the sentinel finally getting a taste of his guide. Knowing he needed more, Jim stretched out on the floor before the fire and pulled Blair on top of him, his hands running over Blair’s face and down his body, as they kissed.

“You’re overdressed,” Blair complained in a husky voice, trying to slide Jim’s jacket down his broad shoulders and arms.

Rolling onto his side, so Blair slid down next to him and faced him, Jim answered, “So, are you.”

“We need to do something about that,” Blair answered in a reasonable voice, sitting up and starting to unbutton his shirt. Jim sat up as well, tossing his coat off, before pushing Blair’s hands from his shirt.

“Let me?” he asked, and Blair nodded, resting back on his elbows, his smile seductive as he watched Jim in the flickering firelight.

Jim unbuttoned Blair’s shirt exposing his hairy chest and ran his fingers through the hair, his hands reaching out to play with Blair’s sensitive nipples, gently rolling them with his fingers and feeling them harden. Blair groaned softly, and Jim smiled at the response as his hands slid down to unbuckle Blair’s pants, pulling them down and freeing Blair’s erection. Jim ran his fingers along the shaft, feeling Blair’s pulse through the heated flesh before running his hand over the head of Blair’s penis. The need to taste the essence of the guide became overwhelming and made him bend to lick the tip.

Blair gasped at the sensation and pushed Jim back. “I need…need to see you,” Blair struggled to get the words out and Jim nodded his understanding and stood, slowly removing his clothes and tossing them onto the couch, aware of Blair’s close scrutiny.

Naked he stood before Blair while Blair’s eyes swept over Jim’s body, his breath coming in short gasps as the hunger in him continued to build. Patting the space on the rug next to him, Blair gave a soft sigh of contentment as Jim dropped down stretching out beside Blair and the pair ran their hands over each other’s body, caressing sensitive areas and eliciting moans of pleasure. “Have you ever done anything like this before?” Blair asked he voice breathless and Jim shook his head no.

“Have you?”

“No,” Blair answered. “We’ll just have to take this slow and learn from each other,” as he said this, Blair slid his cock against Jim’s and began to rock, rubbing against him.

Jim groaned at the sensation building inside him and began to thrust back against Blair, his hands reaching down to grasp their cocks and rub them. Blair let his hands close over Jim’s and they moved together, the friction growing to a feverish pitch, their breathing becoming harsh as the thrusts built to a crescendo.

Crying out Jim came and Blair, hearing Jim’s cry went over the edge just behind him, their hands joined as they held each other. Closing his eyes, feeling like he could pass out, Jim felt his spirit soar and for one moment, found himself in a blue jungle, in the body of a jaguar. Turning, he could feel something coming at him, and suddenly, a wolf leaped at him. Instinctively, he leaped as well and the pair blended in a blinding light.

When next Jim opened his eyes, he was back on the rug, Blair, leaning up on one elbow, gently caressing his face. “Are you alright, my sentinel?” Blair asked with a smile.

“Better than alright, my guide,” Jim answered. 

“You felt it, didn’t you? The joining - in the blue jungle,” Blair asked.

“You were a wolf.”

“Yes, that was my spirit animal. You were a jaguar.”

Jim nodded. “It was the jaguar that told me to come back when I left town.”

“Smart jaguar,” Blair purred, lying down so he could rest his head on Jim’s chest.

Jim reached down to let his fingers run through Blair’s curls. “You’ll be my part-time deputy?” Jim knew the answer but asked for form’s sake.

“I won’t let anyone else that near you,” Blair answered. “You’re mine! We’ll throw Naomi and Charlie out of the rooms in town. They’ll be ours.”

“I thought you were a farmer?” Jim settled comfortably, letting his arms circle Blair.

“Me? No. I’d rather be a lawman and teacher. Charlie and Naomi can run the farm.”

“They want us to meet them tomorrow in town, for a Christmas breakfast. Then we can sign whatever contract.”

“But our contract has already been signed,” Blair answered, letting his arms close around Jim. “Ours was signed in a blue jungle.”

“It was,” Jim said sleepily, relaxing as the sentinel listened to the guide’s heartbeat. “A lifelong contract.”

End


End file.
